Archive of Our Own ^beta

Lorne handed Fred the bowl of mashed potatoes - the whole Thanksgiving table was laden with dishes, groaning under the weight of their feast. 'Here you go, darling,' he said - and she took them off him with a smile.

'you gonna eat all that?' Gunn asked, watching the amount she ladled onto her plate.

'Until I'm fat and happy,' she leaned in for a kiss.

'Anyone want sweet potatoes?' Cordy asked, lifting the bowl up and offering it around.

'Oh pass them here, doll,' Lorne said to her. He took them off her and glanced at the yams, appreciatively. 'Oh these look good - you know, back in Pylea, they used to call me sweet potato?'

'Really?' Cordelia looked sceptical.

'Yeah - well the exact translation was 'fragrant tuber' but …' Everyone laughed.

Cordelia turned to look at Angel. He was sat beside her, unmoving - a warm smile on his face. 'You not hungry?' she asked him.

'No, I'm starving. It's just - I wanna freeze this moment. You - Connor…' He looked to his left, where his infant son sat in his high chair. Connor's first Thanksgiving. He had a little plate of turkey and mashed potato and stuffing - most of which he had managed to smear all over his little face. The vampire turned back to the rest of the table, his smile growing ever warmer, 'all of us,' he said, 'safe - and happy - and together. After everything we went through in the summer …' he trailed off.

At the other end of the table, Wesley leaned forward - out of the shadows - and raised his wine glass. 'To family,' he toasted.

'As long as it's not mine,' Lorne cracked - and everyone laughed again.

They clinked their glasses together. Cordelia picked up the water pitcher and began to pour it into Angel's wine glass. 'You can't toast with an empty glass,' she told him.

'It's not bad luck is it?'

'Angel, relax,' she smiled, 'it's all over. Things are back the way they should be - and nothing is ever gonna break us apart again.' She leaned in closer, her smile becoming more flirtatious. 'And if anything tries - I'm gonna get physical and personally kick its ass.'

He also leaned in - smiling, 'I like it when you get physical.'

'Well - play your cards right…' They moved in to kiss, her arm snaking around his neck - drawing him in closer.

'Ah - man,' Doyle said from his place beside Lorne, 'I know I gave you guys my personal blessing, but do I really have to see this?'

'Close your eyes, little Irish man,' Cordy replied, but she pulled away - her and Angel smiled sheepishly at each other.

'I'm sorry,' Angel said to the half demon, 'we'll be good.'

'It's OK, bud,' Doyle winked at him, 'the better man won. Hey, where are the rolls?'

'Careful - they're hot,' Cordy passed them across. Everyone tucked into their meal - the plates passed from hand to hand, plates were refilled - talking was replaced with munching. But somehow - no matter how many times a dish went past him - Angel never managed to get a hold of the food. 'Hey - can I just…' the plate of green beans was passed across him. He got nothing.

'Stuffing?' Lorne asked - it was passed to him, Angel tried to grab it. Nothing.

'These sweet potatoes are good,' Doyle said through a mouthful.

'Pass 'em here, Irish,' Gunn held a hand out and Doyle passed the bowl over.

'Can I get the…' Angel tried again.

'Salt please,' said Wesley.

'Pass the carrots,' requested Fred.

The food was moving faster and faster, from hand to hand. 'Delicious,' Wesley pronounced. But still Angel got none. No matter what he tried to grab, he always missed it. Eventually, he managed to grab a laden platter - but when he brought it down to his plate, there was nothing left but the juices.

He looked at the woman to the right of him. 'Cordy - what…?' He knocked his glass to the floor, it smashed and the liquid pooled on the ground.

Cordelia glanced down, 'now look what you did, silly.'

As she spoke, the light changed. The warm, festive glow was replaced by a blue, watery light. The room suddenly felt cold - and empty, and Angel found himself standing ankle deep in water. He looked up in alarm. The table was empty - the remnants and debris of the feast were strewn across its surface - but the chairs were all pushed back, and his family were gone. Angel was completely alone.

...

He woke up, gasping. Water had leaked into his casket - and, through the window, he could still see the darkness of the ocean's depth.

Doyle walked through the streets of Downtown L.A. Throughout the summer, he had found himself patrolling the area around their old offices more and more. He remembered how it was - that first year - those early days, just the three of them. How Angel would lock himself away in his underground lair, brooding - and he and Cordy would laugh together at their taciturn boss. Back then - the vampire had been far too hooked up on Buffy to even notice that Cordelia was alive - never mind that she was an incredibly admirable and attractive woman. Doyle had had her all to himself.

When he walked through the streets, sometimes, he liked to pretend that it was still the fall of '99. That he was making his way to their little office and, when he got there, Angel and Cordy would be waiting for him. He especially liked to pretend it was the night - so long ago now - when he and Angel had taken out a vampire nest, and then he had walked back alone. Cordelia had arrived back from her disastrous date, only to be attacked by a massive vampire that had followed Doyle back to the office. Her date had screamed and run away, abandoning Cordy to her fate - until Doyle had come back out of the office, crossbow in hand and taken the demon out. That was the night Cordelia had started to fall in love with him.

He knew he shouldn't pretend it was still the distant past. Those days were long gone and they were not coming back. Fantasising about 1999 was just another crutch for him, like drinking and gambling had been. But at least it wasn't destructive. And Doyle was a weak man - an emotional cripple - he always needed some form of crutch. And in the dark - in the old streets, around their old place - he could really make himself believe it was the old days.

In the morning, however, when the sun came back up - the harsh light of day forced him back down to earth, with a crash. It was 2002, now, and Cordelia loved Angel - not him. And Angel was missing - and so was Connor - and no one had seen either of them for three months.

He trudged on through the streets - wary for any signs of trouble. He was on patrol - someone had to be, and Wesley wasn't out tonight. The half demon didn't know what the watcher was doing with his time, but he was often unavailable when it was time for them to hunt. Maybe Wes' heart just wasn't in the good fight anymore.

As he walked past an alley, leading off Skid Row, he heard the unmistakable sounds of a tussle. Glass smashing, wood splintering, something heavy being tossed around - and a scream. 'There we go,' he muttered to himself, 'and I thought tonight was gonna be a boring one.' He rounded the corner - and pulled up short.

An enormous, scaly creature - with glowing eyes and sharp claws and a curved beak - was attacking a young woman. 'Help!' she screamed, 'Help!' The beak snapped at her - taking a chunk from her arm, she tried to twist away - but the demon lunged in at her, again.

Doyle gulped. This was a bit bigger than he was used to taking out on his own … but he could hardly be like Cordelia's date from the old days, and turn tail and flee. So he morphed into his demon spikes, for the added strength they would give him, and ran at the demon. He grabbed it by the neck, from behind, and used all his strength to haul it away from its victim. Tossing it aside, he turned to help the woman back to her feet. She took one glance at his green skin and red eyes - looked back at the scaly creature - and then screamed, scrambled to her feet by herself - and fled down the alley, back to safety.

Doyle shrugged, 'can't say I blame her.' He turned to face the demon - which screamed out in frustration at losing the woman and began to snap its beak at Doyle, instead. The Irishman jumped backwards, creating distance between them - and then pulled out the small crossbow he had stored under his jacket. 'Say goodnight, sunshine,' he snarled - and pulled the trigger.

The bolt hit home, impaling the demon in the torso. It threw back its scaly head and squealed out in pain. Then it unfurled a pair of massive wings - beat them a couple of times - and then flew up into the sky. Doyle watched it go, craning his own head back to follow its progress.'Y' can fly?' he called after it, 'that's cheatin'!' But the demon paid him no heed - and, moments later, it had disappeared from view.

The Irishman shook his head. He'd never seen anything like that before - and he couldn't imagine it portended anything good. Besides, he had failed to kill it - which meant he would have to find it again. He was going to have to see Wesley - whatever the British man was up to - he was going to have to stop it. Giant, women eating, bird demons would have to take precedence over a night in, alone, with a bottle of scotch and an episode of Jeopardy.

As he stowed his crossbow away, again, and made his way out of the alley, Doyle tried, very carefully, not to worry about the fact that he hadn't had a vision about that demon - or that woman. He tried not to worry that he hadn't had a vision of the sheerhoth demons he and Wes had taken out, in the sewer tunnels, last week. Or a vision of the warlock, who had only narrowly escaped being eaten by the Jarvlen flesh eater he had summoned by the men's timely intervention, a couple of days ago. As he left the alley, he tried, very carefully, not to worry about the fact that he hadn't had a vision in months - and that the last vision he remembered having was the one he had on his birthday - back in May.

Fred and Gunn raced down the alleyway - they rounded the corner and then piled into Gunn's pickup. 'You OK?' Gunn asked

'No. You?'

'No.' He turned the ignition and the engine roared into life.

'It's nice the way we still do these things together,' Fred quipped - though her voice wavered - as they sped away.

'You think it's working?' Gunn asked. BAM. He was interrupted by a vampire dropping down - as if from out of the sky - and then landing heavily on the hood.

'Seems to be,' Fred replied. The vampire smashed its fist through the windshield - and Gunn swung the steering wheel, swerving the truck crazily - trying to dislodge the vamp. After a few more wild swings of the wheel, the vamp was thrown from the car. The street fighter hit the brakes, and they came squealing to a stop.

Just opposite them, a red convertible pulled up - so it was blocking the exit to the alleyway - and a whole load more vampires came spilling out. 'Blind alley,' Fred said, looking at them, 'remind me again why this is the plan?'

'Hey - I aint the boss around here,' Gunn replied. Then he jumped out of the truck and faced down the vampires. 'Now your ass better be insured!' he yelled.

'If I were you, I'd be worrying about your own ass, mister,' the lead vampire said, he helped the downed vamp back to his feet, and then stalked towards the young couple.

'Look, we're only here because we need to find the girl,' Fred said to him, trying to talk him down.

'Tell us where she is - and we're gone,' her boyfriend added.

The vampire began to chuckle, he didn't see why he should give up primo information - when he could just have himself a 2 course meal, instead. Fred levelled her crossbow directly at his heart. 'We just wanna talk to her - that's all.'

The vampire looked at the wooden bolt pointing directly at him, and snorted in disgust. 'Marissa?' he said, 'condemned building on Figueroa, top floor - and tell her I want me CDs back.'

'We'll pass that along,' Gunn snarked. But the vampire had changed his mind. He could always get his own CDs back. Maybe he'd just kill the two of them, instead.

'I was so hoping you'd say that,' a voice said, from behind the gang of vamps. They turned - and before they could react, Cordy had staked one vampire through the heart. There was a startled moment of silence - and then the lead vampire snarled and dove towards Cordelia. But Fred fired her crossbow bolt - and he was dust before he even reached the other woman. Gunn leapt into the fray - and began to beat on one vampire. Cordy punched the other. It swung at her, but she ducked and then kicked him in the chest. As he staggered back away from her, Fred aimed her crossbow again - but this time the bolt went wide.

The vampire quit attacking Cordy and dived on Fred, instead. He knocked the weapon from her hand and pinned her against the truck, 'what are you gonna do without your little toy - pretty girl?' he leered.

'Use another one.' She released the stake launcher from her wrist - Angel's old hidden weapon - and plunged it deep into the vampire's heart. He dusted - and the cloud cleared just in time for her to see Gunn quit pummelling his own vampire - and stake him.

'Man that was some work out!' he grinned, 'and Fred - damn girl - you took out two!'

She grinned and blushed.

'Yeah - good work, everyone,' Cordelia said, 'and most importantly - we got what we came for.'

'I'd say most importantly we didn't die,' the street fighter said - but he shut up when the woman, who had been running Angel Investigations in the absence of Angel, just stared at him. 'We got what we came for,' he agreed.

'So now we go see her - beat her as necessary - until she tells us what happened to Angel and Connor,' Cordelia summarised the end of her plan, which so far had gone off without a hitch; Gunn's broken windshield notwithstanding.

'But what if she didn't see anything?' Gunn asked.

'She used to feed up near the bluffs where Angel was supposed to meet Cordy,' Fred pointed out, 'if she was out that night - she saw what happened.'

'I just don't think we should get our hopes up. We've been three months looking for Angel and Connor - and the only thing we're closing in on is an eviction.'

'Hello!' Cordelia sounded irritated, 'did I not tell you I would take care of everything? We can run the business and pay the bills and find Angel and Connor. We just got ourselves a major lead - we did good tonight!'

They piled back into the pick up, and Gunn began to manoeuvre around the convertible - getting them out of the alley. 'You know we might find this a whole lot easier if Lorne was pitching in,' he said, 'where's our future reading empath demon when you need him?'

'Mr. Big-hit-in-Vegas if too busy Danke-schoning the tourists to care about us,' Fred said, a little bitterly.

'Did you try calling him again?'

'Only about sixty times!'

'Guys!' Cordelia interrupted, 'it doesn't matter - we can do this. We have our lead. Nothing else matters.'

'And what if all vamperella saw is sand and seaweed?' Gunn asked her, as he drove towards Figueroa.

'She didn't - she is the key to this.' Cordelia was confident.

But Fred did not share her determined optimism. 'Maybe we should think about finding some alternative leads - for if this one doesn't pan out?' she suggested.

'Like what?'

'Well,' her voice took on a very careful edge to it. 'I know you won't like it - but … what if Doyle had a vision?'

'Doyle hasn't had a vision,' Cordelia replied, shortly - trying to cut off the conversation.

'Well, what about his underworld contacts?' Gunn asked.

'They can't help, either.'

'But how can you know that if you don't even talk to him?' Fred sounded exasperated.

But nowhere near as exasperated as Cordelia did, when she replied. 'Look, Fred, I know that little weasel better than anybody - at least, I thought I did. He is just creeping around looking for a way back into the family - back into my life.' She snorted with disgust, 'so do you think - even for a moment - that if Doyle had absolutely any idea where Angel was, or how he could find him - he wouldn't have done that already? Slimed his way back into our home as the hero of the hour?' She shuddered.

But Gunn and Fred exchanged a worried look. Cordelia's harsh words were masking the heartbreak she still felt - the pain of his betrayal. She had been hoping to move on from him, the night Angel had disappeared, but now all she was left with was regrets and loneliness and fear for the vampire and his child. She had been a whirlwind of activity all summer - hunting down leads, beating them up - gaining information and slowly gaining on Angel's whereabouts. She had taken over Wes' old office as her own, and used it as command central - searching the web, making phone calls and using the books to research any possible lead. But all that hive of busyness had just been hiding how much her heart was still hurting. And whenever she was forced into idleness, such as during a car journey, that hurt would become bitter words.

The young couple hoped they found Angel soon - for Cordy's sake as much as his. Their current boss needed some happiness in her life, needed anything to take the sting out of what had happened over the summer.

'There is always another line of enquiry,' Fred said - as the truck sped through the streets, heading into an even seedier part of town.

'No,' Gunn said, without even asking what she meant.

The woman looked put out. 'Well - I'm glad we're at least discussing it.'

'Wesley isn't going to help us,' her boyfriend told her, 'he doesn't give a damn about us.'

'Have we given him any reason to?'

The street fighter shook his head, in frustration. 'Wes made his choice,' he said, 'now he has to live with it.'

Sated and sweaty, Lilah sank down so she was resting against Wesley's naked chest. 'Well, that didn't suck,' she murmured, 'well - maybe just a little bit.'

'Maybe it's something we can expand on next time,' Wes suggested, wrapping his arms around her.

She laughed in delight and craned her neck upwards, nuzzling into him and licking his cheek, 'what makes you think there'll be a next time?'

'You can't resist me.'

'I think you have that backwards.' She rolled off him and got out of the bed.

Wesley watched her, 'where are you going?'

'Snack break's over,' she said, pulling her shirt on, 'time to get back to work.'

'And Wolfram and Hart does it's best work after dark.'

She wriggled into her skirt, 'Sun's bad for your complexion - just ask Angel. Oh wait, you can't, because of that whole wanting you dead thing.'

Wesley lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, 'who would have thought that kidnapping his son would have had such a negative impact on our friendship?' His voice was ironic and his face impassive - he revealed nothing of the pain in his chest that he felt whenever he thought about the missing baby, which was almost constantly.

'You thought you were doing the right thing,' Lilah was saying, as she placed her slingback heels on her feet. Wesley dragged himself out of his reverie of Connor and forced himself to listen to her. 'I hear that can be confusing. Have you tried talking to him? Maybe when he gets back you could …'

He forced out a laugh. 'I have no idea where Angel is, Lilah, or what happened to him. And I really couldn't care.'

Lilah actually looked surprised at his words, 'wow, that was cold.' She went to sit on the edge of the bed, 'maybe we're finally making progress. Come on. Doesn't it bother you just a little bit? The not knowing?'

'That part of my life is dead. Doesn't concern me now.'

She gazed down at him, 'no - it doesn't,' and then she leaned in to give him a quick kiss goodbye. But Wesley pulled her closer and gave her a much deeper, more lingering kiss. She was smiling, as she pulled back and got up to leave.

...

Lilah walked out of the door and headed for the elevator. As the doors closed behind her, blocking her from view, Doyle walked up the last flight stairs to Wesley's floor and reached the watcher's hallway.

...

When Wes was sure that Lilah had left, he got out of the bed and pulled on a pair of pants. Then he made his way over to the closet and unlocked the door. There was a second door inside - a set of bars. He opened his mouth to speak…

...

'Wesley man we got trouble,' the front door flew open, and Doyle barged in, 'I just had a vision of this big beaked demon thing snacking on a woman…' the half demon came to a halt, as he saw what was inside the closet. 'Wesley, man… what?'

The watcher was keeping a red headed woman chained and gagged, inside of his wardrobe...